Page 16 of Exposure of Murder

That’s what Jane thought, too.

Once again, Sheriff “Clueless” McQueeney had brushed off her concerns. She also hated that he questioned Bucky like he was a criminal.

“Well, the sheriff seems to have a blind eye when it comes to my problems,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what his problem is with me. Maybe it’s because I’m a woman or a flatlander.” She shrugged. “I’m not going to worry about it.”

At least Adam, his deputy, was friendlier. She had seen him at the diner a couple of weeks ago, and they hit it off. Not in a relationship way, because Jane wasn’t looking for one.

Truth be told, she was actually attracted to Ethan. At least when he wasn’t dismissing her. She’d always had a thing for tall, dark-haired men.

Despite Ethan’s disbelief, someone had indeed been in the barn.

But who? And why?

Jane wondered if she was in danger. Or if it was only kids, as the sheriff suggested. Maybe she should get a gun? She never thought about having one in Boston, but then she wasn’t living by herself.

“I didn’t know you lived in Framingham,” said Jane. “Of course, I never asked. It’s funny you mentioned that city, though. That’s where my late husband grew up. What are the odds?”

He shrugged.

“Did you know Mike Jeffers?”

“Jeffers?”

“Yes, I never took my husband’s last name.”

“Oh.” Bucky took a deep breath and hesitated. “Not that I remember.”

“What did you do there?”

Bucky paused what he was doing and turned to face her. “A little of this, a little of that.”

“Okaaay.”

“I’m a wanderer.” He shrugged. “It’s hard to stay in one place.”

“It’s all good,” Jane said. “We’re all on our own journey, trying to find ourselves. Some people just take longer than others.”

He finished dumping the compost and neatly rolled up the plastic bag. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m getting there.” Bucky picked up the rake to smooth the dirt over. “I really appreciate you taking a chance on me.”

Jane leaned against the wall and watched him work. “I’m a firm believer in giving everyone a helping hand. My husband, Mike, was the same way. He was a kind person and never met a someone he didn’t like.”

“He sounds like he was a great guy.”

She gave him a small smile. “He was.”

Jane pushed herself off the wall and walked back into the barn to grab a hoe. She wiped an errant tear and took a second to take a deep breath. It still hurt to talk about Mike. She missed him so much.

An hour later, they finished the greenhouse.

Next, she had to order seeds to plant in the flats to prepare for spring planting. There was enough sunshine during the day so she could grow vegetables throughout the winter.

Removing her gloves and saying goodbye to Bucky, Jane went back to the house.

Lost in memories of Mike, she felt a pang of sadness that she hoped would diminish with time.

She turned on the stove and put a kettle of water on to make tea. On the edge of the counter, she found the mail Savannah had brought from Boston and the latest pile from her mailbox. She’d totally forgotten it was there.

Jane sat at the kitchen table, thumbing through the envelopes, setting invitations to past events in Boston and junk mail aside to be thrown out. One plain, white envelope caught her attention. It had no address or stamp on it, only her name printed on the front. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at it. It must have been in the mailbox. But for how long?

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